


It Only Takes A Taste

by impravidus



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Banter, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gay Harley Keener, Humor, M/M, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Mess, Precious Peter Parker, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:27:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24428728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impravidus/pseuds/impravidus
Summary: "There was one thing that Peter knew, and it was that his soulmate was trying to kill him."Peter and Harley can taste what the other tastes and it has created a bit of an issue.
Relationships: Harley Keener & Peter Parker, Harley Keener & Tony Stark, Harley Keener/Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 47
Kudos: 1024





	1. Peter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [musicluvr1O](https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicluvr1O/gifts).



There was one thing that Peter knew, and it was that his soulmate was trying to kill him.

Okay, so his soulmate may not be trying to kill him, but man did it feel like they were.

It was his thirteenth birthday and he was having a rocking Bar Mitzvah and he was in the middle of reciting blessings over the Torah when his tongue began to tingle, then followed by an unbearable sting and burn traveling down his throat and burning in his chest. 

His eyes watered and the hiccups and coughs only enraged the fire.

It was then he realized that he was completely and utterly screwed.

Soulmates were connected by one of the five senses. Touch was the most common and was the one that everyone wanted to get. Find your soulmate with just a couple taps of morse code and you’re set for life! The second most common was hearing. This connection took time to adjust to, the double sound and focusing on two places at once, but these soulmates got even more clues to find each other. They’re almost destined to find each other. The third most common was sight. This one caused the most injuries: car accidents, walking into traffic or off ledges. But, on the off chance you get your soul connection in front of a mirror or when they’re looking at their name, it was easy. Fourth was smell. This was one of the harder ones, and more difficult to find your match. Most with smell don’t find their match.

But taste? That was the rarest connection, only because the genetic fate was slim in the modern world. They were rare to come by, rare to find, and rare to ever be united.

Peter knew he should be honored to be one of the few that experiences the shared taste, but all he could focus on was the excruciating turmoil in his mouth that felt like it was ripping his gums into the pits of hell.

Okay. That’s dramatic. But damn, he did not like spice.

From there, it only got worse. 

The spice was not a one time thing. In fact, it was an at least twice a day kind of thing. And, well, Peter’s spice tolerance was nothing extraordinary. He could eat hot cheetos with just a slight wince, and he had gotten over his adversary to pepperoni (Hey! Don’t judge him! Pepperoni  _ is  _ spicy and it takes some time to get used to), and when May made her runner’s stew he could eat the mild sausage perfectly fine (as long as he took three sips of water between each bite, God he wished he wasn’t lactose intolerant right about now). But his soulmate was something completely else when it came to spice.

One would think that his spice tolerance would increase with the overexposure, but those weren’t his taste buds. That was the residual bond from his soulmate’s taste buds, which meant that he could not build his own tolerance.

When his soulmate wasn’t eating what he could only assume was edible lava, they were usually snacking on what he figured to be a healthy alternative to normal snacks. Lots of kale chips and parmesan crisps and pretzels that tasted like pretzels but couldn’t be pretzels because they tasted just a little off. 

His soulmate also ate lots of vegetables, but not much fruit. In fact, he didn’t think he had ever tasted fruits from his soulmate. What kind of person this made them, Peter didn’t know.

And then he became Spider-Man, and the spice was unbearable against his enhanced taste buds.

With his sense heightened overboard, every taste that his soulmate took in was unendurable. Spice that would already leave him writhing in pain now made him incapacitated, and it was making his evening patrols very dangerous when his body was nearly shutting down from whatever Carolina Reaper sauce that his soulmate had gravitated towards. 

At least he wasn’t lactose intolerant anymore.

Fast forward.

Homecoming. Blood in his mouth. A lingering taste of chocolate ice cream on his taste buds. 

He crashed a plane. Ash on his tongue. Bubbly carbonation and bitter hints of raspberry from the sparkling water his soulmate treated themself to at the end of their day.

Things changed. Peter’s life changed. Mr. Stark had became a new presence in his life, implementing real lab days and new support to sustain Peter’s hypermetabolism. They ran tests to monitor his sugar and vitamin and healthy protein intake. He provided him some of Captain America (Captain America!)’s special super calorie protein bars and gave him a new food budget, courtesy of the new and improved internship.

May didn’t like it much, but she knew that she couldn’t provide for Peter in the way that he needed and Tony wasn’t going to take no for an answer, so their pantry was in a constant state of stocked.

Peter was getting a taste of so many foods he could never dream of, and he realized that his soulmate was getting a taste too.

Peter sucked on a fudge pop, unable to keep the tears from spilling down his flushed cheeks from what he inferred to be a spicy sausage and rice. If… no,  _ when  _ he met his soulmate, he knew he was going to have more than a few words for them.


	2. Harley

There was one thing Harley knew, and it was that his soulmate was trying to kill him.

Or at least, the terrible food that he kept eating was going to.

The first time he had tasted maple bacon wrapped hot dogs on his tongue while he was quietly tinkering in his garage, he figured it was a craving, though he wouldn’t know how he could crave something he’d never had.

But, thinking it was a sign that he needed to grab something to eat, he picked out leftover chicken wings, shaking out a couple squirts of habanero hot sauce for good measure, and enjoyed the low burn that shot warmth throughout his body.

Harley loved spice. He was sure that he was going to burn off all his taste buds by the time he turned twenty, but the spice was just so enthralling and he couldn’t get away from it. 

He had always been an adventurous eater, and if it weren’t his Mama and the many diets that she implemented in the foods she made, he would be trying any and everything he could.

But, healthy food was bland, and Harley didn’t like bland. He loved his Mama, and she knew how to cook, but there’s only so much kale and grilled lemon chicken a guy can have before turning to something with a kick.

It wasn’t until the fifth time did Harley realize that his soul connection had initiated, and good God did his soulmate eat some bad food.

Harley was beginning to appreciate the blandness of vegetables because at least then he wouldn’t have to taste the charred, bitter remnants at what he could only assume to be an attempt at banana bread. After he got a glimpse of these monstrosities that were a sorry excuse to the culinary craft, he would usually get tastes of over artificial takeout, something he hadn’t gotten to taste in years after his Mama read an article on Facebook about a bacteria that was spreading in kitchens at restaurants and the health indiscrepancies that were being ignored by waitstaff and she decided that, despite the fact that she was a waitress, she would not allow their family to eat anything of the sort.

So that was nice. Sweet Pad Thais and savory lemongrass beef wraps and burritos and tacos and everything in between. But he didn’t taste much throughout the day. He was honestly quite worried about his soulmate. At most they had a piece of dull fruit for breakfast (a taste that Harley was not accustomed to because of his many fruit allergies) but they didn’t have anything for lunch and just one dish at the end of the day, and sometimes none at all. 

It wasn’t until he was fourteen when things got strange. 

His soulmate was eating more, things he wasn’t used to. Protein shakes and protein bars. Was his soulmate trying to get fit? 

But what was the more concerning question was a new taste that was becoming more and more familiar on his taste buds. The metallic copper and rust of blood.

Now, Harley isn’t one for the supernatural, but from the frequency (and it was very frequent) that he was having the now familiar taste of blood on his tongue, he was beginning to wonder if his soulmate was a vampire.

And yes! He knew that vampires didn’t exist. But this was a world with aliens and superheroes and dead, genius, billionaires in bright red robot suits crashing into his garage. Were vampires really that far fetched?

But no. Of course they’re not a vampire. Or at least, that’s what Harley had to keep reminding himself despite how ludicrous the concept may be.

One night, he tasted blood and sweat and thick, dirty water and ash and sand.

He didn’t want to know why. 

He figured his soulmate needed something that night, so he pulled out his favorite ice cream that he hid in the back of the freezer, hoping they liked it too, and savored the taste, letting it melt on his tongue before swallowing and doing the same. He drank his sparkling water, something that he found comfort in, praying that it would bring his soulmate peace too.

Then his soulmate was suddenly consuming ridiculous amounts of food. Throughout his day, he could taste a myriad of different monotonous dishes and snacks. 

Harley began to question who this soulmate was. Were they a binge eater? He knew they were only intaking food. (He’d know if there was anything coming back up, and thank goodness there hadn’t.) Someone who was edging towards becoming severely obsese? He knew it was rude to question such a thing, but when he was tasting churros and hotdogs past sundown, he was growing more and more curious.

And he would soon have the answers to his questions.


	3. Peter and Harley

It had been nearly half a year since the Homecoming fiasco, and Peter was winding down in the labs with Mr. Stark for his full time, actual, real, not a ruse summer internship.

“Can you pass me that?”

“Pass you what?” Peter asked, looking up to Tony..

“What’s in your hand. Hand it over.” He made grabby fingers at Peter.

“I am  _ not  _ giving you my M&Ms,” Peter stated, aghast.

“Yes, you will.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “And why is that?”

“Because then I get to tell you the exciting news.”

Tentatively but now piqued with interest and curiosity, he begrudgingly handed over the remains of his M&Ms.

“There is another intern that’s gonna work with you in the labs.”

“Oh?” Peter responded, an uncomfortable looming feeling of being replaced lingering in the forefront of his mind.

“I don’t want you to be alone in here when I’m going to meetings and doing bla bla boring stuff, so I figured what better than to have someone come join you. You’re gonna like him. He’s your age. Name’s Harley.”

Peter just nodded quietly. “Sounds great, Mr. Stark.”

There was a knock on the door.

“And that must be him,” Tony said. “FRIDAY, door.”

“Hey, Tony! Look at you. You barely look a day over sixty four. I mean, the grey really adds a new distinguished wisdom to the whole look.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Ha ha. Nice to see you too, Keener.” He shifted, holding a hand to motion to Peter. “This is the intern I was telling you about.”

Peter couldn’t help but gape at the handsome teen standing before him. He cleared his throat awkwardly, lost in his blue eyes, and pushed up from his seat, going to shake his hand. “Peter. Parker. It’s very nice to meet you.

“Polite,” Harley stated. “And to think, I thought I was supposed to be the one with the southern hospitality.”

Peter’s face flushed. “You’re not from around here?”

“Born and raised in Rose Hill, Tennessee. Though, I think I’m liking the city. Definitely got a lot of sites to see.” He made eye contact with Peter, making his legs feel wobbly beneath him. “I’m really enjoying the view.”

Tony, oblivious to the undertone to Harley’s words, patted him on the back. “Well," he looked to his watch, "it's almost time for lunch and I'm really craving burgers, so I'm gonna go grab us some. Peter, can you give Harley the grand tour? Team bonding and whatnot? Yup? Good."

Peter struggled to stammer out an affirmative before Tony was already out the door.

“So, uh. The labs. This is the main lab that I use with Mr. Stark, and I guess you will be too. Your workbench is over here. Total blank slate, lots of room and space to do what you want. I work over here. Ignore the mess, it gets pretty chaotic when Mr. Stark and I get concentrated. That’s his stuff over there. This is just one of his many labs, so sometimes he steps out to work in there.”

Harley nodded, running his fingers over the table. “Guess we’ll be spendin’ a lot of time together.”

Peter pursed his lips and let out a high, “Mhm.”

“What kinds of projects have you been up to?”

Peter let out a relieved breath. “I help Spider-Man with his tech, but that’s not my main project. I’m working on an alternative energy source to replace oil in cars. The demand for oil is higher than ever and it’s irrefutably detrimental to the climate with its carbon emissions, and I’m on the verge of figuring out how to convert trash into environmentally safe fuel.”

Harley’s eyes went wide. “Oh, uh, wow. That’s fantastic.”

Peter shrugged bashfully. “Just something I’m working on.”

Tony entered the labs again, a bag of burgers in hand. 

“How’d you get these so fast?” Peter questioned.

“Ordered them in advance. Just had to pick them up from down the hall,” Tony replied.

Harley nearly moaned at the smell. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve had a burger. At least, one that  _ I’ve  _ actually eaten.” 

“Got you bacon cheeseburger,” Tony said.

Harley’s mouth watered. “You are heaven sent.” He pulled it out, humming in delight at the scent. He pulled a little bottle from his bag and dripped the contents on the bun before taking a bite.

Suddenly, Peter’s mouth flushed with the familiar, tear inducing burn with the distinct flavor of bacon cheeseburger. Peter looked up to Harley in shock, face red and throat stinging.

“You asshole!” Peter blurted out before he could stop himself.

Harley froze, just about to take another bite of his hamburger. “What?”

“The poblano? I could handle. The cayenne and the chipotle? That was pushing it but I was getting used to it. But then you just  _ had  _ to start getting into Carolina Reapers, didn’t you? Do you know how many presentations I’ve ruined because I couldn’t breath through the  _ fire  _ that you set in my mouth?! And don’t get me started on the fact that you put hot sauce on your  _ salads _ . Your  _ SALADS?!” _

“I’m not following here,” Tony stated.

Harley had now set his burger down. “You…” He furrowed his brows. “You don’t  _ look  _ like a vampire.”

“I’m  _ really  _ not following here,” Tony repeated.

“Why would you…” Peter started but paled. “Oh, God. You could taste that?”

“I taste everything you taste! That’s kinda how the soul connection works!”

Tony’s eyes bugged out in understanding. “I’m gonna… leave you two to it. Need a drink? I’m gonna get you drinks. Mhm. Great.”

Peter took a step towards Harley, his anger shifting into a soft smile. “Hi. I’m Peter Parker, and I’m your soulmate.”

Harley grinned cheekily. “Hi. I’m Harley Keener, and I’m your soulmate.” He went to pick up his burger. “And I’m sorry, but I am so hungry and this burger is really good.”

“Don’t make me take off my sweaty sock and suck on it. Because I will.”

Harley laughed, and oh my, his laugh was beautiful. “Guess I’ll have to risk it.”

Peter’s lips tingled, mouth burning, and heart burning even hotter. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to chat, my Tumblr is [official-impravidus](official-impravidus.tumblr.com)
> 
> If you want to join a Parkner Discord, click [here!](https://discord.gg/vztSVpg)


End file.
